


A Problem Worth Noticing

by Raichel



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Gen, IDK about y'all but pretty much everyone I know has anxiety and/or depression, Is this current? Is this in the 90s? who's to say, Mundane, Post-Stars, Sometimes having a destiny and being a magical girl gives you existential crises, and I feel like saving the world would probably have that effect, author is low-key projecting on the characters, everybody is grown up now, like maybe in their early 20s?, multiple POV/third person, well I mention texting so I guess it's 2000s at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29742201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raichel/pseuds/Raichel
Summary: It's been years since anything strange, magical, and/or extra-terrestrial has threatened Tokyo.Things are, by and large, normal, and Usagi Tsukino and her friends are going about their normal lives. But something seems to be wrong with Usagi, and her four closest guardians are trying their best to support her. After all, what are friends for?Also known as: Are you a young(ish) adult having some existential crises while trying to figure out how to exist in the world? Do you love Sailor Moon? This may just be the fanfic for you!
Relationships: Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	1. Ami

Ami noticed she was distracted.

Usagi had smiled bright, just like always, when Ami opened the door. They had hugged and chattered as she led Usagi into her apartment’s living room.

“It’s so wonderful to see you!” she said, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work lately. My last business trip was quite exhausting.”

“Ooh, tell me about it!” Usagi prompted, “What happened?”

“Not much at all, really,” Ami insisted, “truthfully, it was awfully boring. Lots of talk about marketing and competitors. I’m much better suited to the inventive and hands-on side of computers. But I’d much rather hear about your anniversary! You and Mamoru must have done something special?”

“We had a really nice dinner,” Usagi told her, taking on a dreamy look she only had for her husband, “delicious food and a really fancy dessert! We also had a nice walk, and we made sure to spend a lot of time together. We were lucky it fell on a day he didn’t have any classes to teach and I was able to get time off, so we had an entire day to ourselves!”

Ami smiled at her. “I’m so glad you’re happy! Not to mention it’s fun to live vicariously through you. It gets lonely around here sometimes.”

“Maybe you should get a pet?” Usagi offered.

“I’m afraid I travel too much,” Ami said, before adding, “have you heard anything from Luna?”

Usagi shook her head, and a silence fell. Any conversation about their less-than-normal past, or future, was usually kept to a sentence or less. There was no need, and perhaps even a discomfort with lingering on Luna still being on the moon, working with Artemis, watching over earth as an early-warning system. At best, they just had to believe everything was fine up there.

“Oh!” Ami suddenly realized in the silence, “I’m sorry, I haven’t been a very good hostess. Would you like something to drink? Or eat? I’ve been thinking about a nice cup of tea all day.”

“That sounds good,” Usagi agreed.

“Lots of sugar?” Ami asked.

“Yes, please!”

Comparative silence fell over the apartment as Ami brewed tea in the other room. The only sounds were the clinking of kettles and cups against the counter, or spoons against cups, or the shuffling of food in the cabinets while she searched for some suitable snacks.

When she returned to the living room, she found Usagi curled up in her chair, staring out the window. In that moment she looked terribly grown up, and there was a sadness and a distance in her eyes. The clear winter sky let the sun shine unhindered behind her head and she looked almost regal. Ami was almost proud of her, except for the twinge of melancholy in her look.

Nonetheless, she set down the teacups without indicating her observations.

“I thought you might like some cookies with your tea,” Ami explained as she set down the tin, and as Usagi’s attention was pulled back to her friend and the treats her shining smile returned.

“Oooh! Thanks, Ami!” she beamed, taking a cookie.

“How’ve you been enjoying your work with the Women’s Resource Network?” Ami asked, before blowing gently on her own tea.

“It’s OK,” Usagi said, looking back towards the window. “all the administrative work is kind of hard. You know I’ve never been good with numbers or computers,” she laughed at herself, and Ami did her best to smile along, though she interjected,

“You’re plenty good with computers! And I’m sure you’re meeting a lot of interesting people.”

“Yeah, I’ve met a lot of different women,” Usagi agreed, “and I guess I’ve learned a lot, but…” she trailed off. Ami leaned forward a bit.

“Yes?” she prompted, but Usagi just shook her head, pigtails dancing along with the motion.

“It’s nothing. It’s all good work. At least I’m helping people. But what else happened at your boring business meeting? Why were you there?”

“Oh! Well, there’s a new model launching soon,” Ami began, and gladly regained her friend with an overview of her current business. Usagi was a more attentive listener than Ami might’ve expected when they were kids, and though she didn’t have complex technical questions, she did have supportive comments and wondered why Ami was excited about some things and less excited about others.

It was absolutely wonderful to get to talk candidly with an old friend, especially after a week of buttoned-up, official, business minutia. The conversation ranged from interpersonal drama, to fond memories, to reports on each other’s families, to the latest gossip and back again, including a playful interrogation of Ami’s dating aspirations and prospects. Still, Usagi avoided talking too much about herself. She would share memories, news about the other people in her life, but she was quick to divert away from a lot of talk about herself: her job, her day to day life, let alone any particular thoughts and feelings. Ami couldn’t help but connect this evasiveness to the way she gazed out the window when there was a lull in the conversation, as they sipped tea or ate cookies. As the world outside her apartment got darker, Ami caved and asked,

“But you’re really doing alright?”

Usagi looked back at her, having lost herself out the window again, and after the briefest hesitation put her smile back on.

“Of course,” she told her, “I have a good job, and Mamo and I are very happy! Why?”

“It’s just been a while,” was the best reason Ami could offer, “I want to make sure I know how you are.”

“I’m fine,” Usagi assured her, “are you OK in this apartment by yourself?”

“I have my moments,” she admitted with a shrug and smile, “but yes, I’m just fine too.”

By the time they were hugging goodbye, it was hard for Ami to believe there might be anything wrong. Usagi was as chipper as ever, nearly squeezing the air out of her and insisting they see each other again soon.

“You can call me anytime,” Usagi insisted, “I’d almost forgotten how fun it can be to talk!”

“And you can always call me,” Ami assured her.

“Even with your crazy hours?” Usagi prompted.

“Yes,” Ami chuckled, “even with my crazy hours. I’ll always call back eventually.”

“Yay!” Usagi wrapped her arms around Ami again, and after a few more goodbyes, she was gone again, looking for all the world totally content and bubbly.

But as Ami puttered around, making dinner and going about her evening, that image of Usagi staring blankly out the window crept back to her. That particular look of sadness looked almost familiar, from some of Ami’s loneliest days. If she was honest, it worried her. She knew Usagi was strong, confident, and overall competent, no matter how much crap she may have given her over studying or responsibility when they were in school. And yet, she still worried.

She would keep an eye on her.


	2. Rei

Rei noticed that she was quiet.

When she first saw Usagi’s buns cresting the steep, stone stairs that lead up the hill to the shrine, she smiled reflexively, but had to turn her attention back to her customer. The older woman handed Rei the money she had been counting, and Rei thanked her, bowing. By the time she straightened back up, the woman had been replaced by Usagi’s smiling face.

“Hello, stranger!” Rei said, “It’s not often you brave those stairs anymore.”

Usagi laughed the comment off, and for a moment Rei could swear she sensed some tension coming off of her. But that couldn’t be right.

“Well, I realized I hadn’t seen you in a while, and I could use the fresh air and exercise!” Usagi tried to explain.

“I’m glad you did,” Rei told her. “How are you doing? Still getting into trouble?” she asked, putting all that mushy sincerity aside.

“I hope not!” Usagi told her with another of those forced laughs, “I’m doing my best, and if I’m screwing things up no one’s told me.”

“That’s a good sign,” Rei agreed, “And your man? He still treating you well?” she went on, starting to put things away and close up shop under the setting sun.

“Oh, Mamo is wonderful,” Usagi confirmed, “he always has been.”

“Well, maybe not always,” Rei pointed out with a smirk, her attention on packing things up, “there were a few nasty possession incidents back when—“ she cut herself short as her eye caught the look on Usagi’s face: tight with concern and lost in the middle distance. Rei cleared her throat, “But that doesn’t count. He’s really quite the guy.”

“He is,” Usagi agreed, her face trying to return to a smile.

“And what about your recent anniversary? Did you get up to anythi—“ A clatter from inside the shrine cut her off and made Usagi jump. Rei took a deep breath. “There better not be anything broken back there!” she called over her shoulder, and a small chorus of high voices replied,

“No ma’am!”

Usagi’s head tilted, and before she could form a question Rei was answering it,

“I’m training some new girls as shrine maidens. Grandpa doesn’t get out too much anymore, so it’s really all my responsibility now. Not that he’ll admit that,” she added with a long-suffering sigh, and Usagi flashed her a sympathetic smile. “I know it did me good to work here, so I wanted to extend the opportunity,” she continued, “I’m glad to have them, but you know what they say about getting teenagers to work for you.”

Usagi shook her head.

“To paraphrase the adage, when it comes to getting work done, one maiden is a whole maiden, two is a half maiden, and three is no maidens at all. I have three maidens.”

Usagi mulled it over, before asking,

“If three teenagers is none at all, how did we get all that done with five of us?”

Rei paused, thinking about it. In the moment of silence as she and Usagi looked at each other, mentally skimming through their days of saving the world, the young girls’ conversation could just barely be heard. Could be bickering, could be gossiping. Rei had long learned to tune it out.

“Ami,” Rei concluded, just as Usagi opened her mouth, and instead of words, a laugh jumped out, a genuine one.

“Exactly!” Usagi confirmed.

“Honorable mention to Luna, I suppose,” Rei added with a shrug, before turning back to the shrine. “You girls almost done? I want you to try and get home before dark.”

“Yes Ms. Hino, Ma’am!” they called back, breaking the tittering cadence of their conversation.

Minutes later the three of them filed out of the building and down the stairs, saying their reverent farewells to Rei and polite greetings to Usagi as they passed.

“Would you like to stay a while?” Rei offered, gesturing Usagi inside with the shrine’s working day wrapped up. Usagi hesitated a moment, pulling an arm tight around herself, before putting her smile back on.

“OK!” She chirped, “That would be nice.” Rei raised an eyebrow,

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Usagi assured her, “Mamo knows I was coming here. I’d love to stay for just a little bit. I want to hear all about your life!”

Rei chuckled,

“If you insist. It’s mostly stories about handling three teenage girls, and old man, and working in customer service. With the occasional building repair.”

“I’m all ears,” Usagi insisted.

“Alright,” Rei accepted, “just give me a moment to get myself together.”

After doing her familiar evening circuit around the home—changing into more comfortable clothes (though not too comfortable tonight, since she had company), checking in on her grandpa (and finding him fast asleep), and brewing some tea—she returned to the living room to sit with Usagi and regale her with any story she could think of. The dismissive repairman who’d come to work on the gutters, the regular visitors (good and bad), the problems her new maidens had caused her, and all of the potential and fond memories she could see in the girls. But then it had gotten far too late, and Rei had to insist Usagi go home so they could both make sure they had dinner at a reasonable time.

It was only as she waved at Usagi, and watched her friend’s buns sink back down below the peak of the stairs that it hit her: Usagi had barely said a word. There wasn’t a problem with that, really. Usagi had been a very attentive listener. But usually Usagi had everything to say, about the largest or smallest details in her life. Or she would have questions to ask, wanting to be fully informed, even though she found it difficult sometimes. Usagi’s silence haunted her as she tended to the home and prepared dinner, and she shot off a text to three of her closest friends.

 _Have you all heard from Usagi?_ she asked the inner senshi group chat, and a few minutes later she got a response from Ami:

_I saw her a few days ago._

_Did she seem strange to you?_ She asked, and then, a moment later, allowed herself to say something softer, _I’m a little worried about her._

 _Strange how?_ Minako piped up.

 _I thought she seemed distracted_ , Ami agreed, _Maybe sad?_

 _Exactly._ Rei replied. _Anyone know why?_

When no one responded for several minutes Makoto said: _She and I are having lunch together next week. I can try and get to the bottom of it then._

Between emojis and short texts, they all agreed that was a good game plan.


	3. Mako

Makoto noticed she was jumpy.

When they met for lunch Usagi seemed very much like her normal self: chipper, conversational, and, of course, very excited about the food. Maybe Rei had been worried for nothing.

“Oh my gosh, this is so good!” she exclaimed, half of her bite still stuffed into one cheek. “Not as good as your food, though,” she added after swallowing.

Mako chuckled. “You’re too kind! I haven’t been here too often, but I’ve liked everything so far.”

Usagi nodded her enthusiastic agreement as she gobbled down more food.

“But what about you?” Usagi asked after a moment, “How’s work? Or your search for the perfect guy?”

“Seems like you’re the only one with luck in the men department,” Makoto noted, smiling at Usagi, “You and Mamoru set a high bar for the rest of us. We can’t settle for anything less!” She was glad that got a giggle out of Usagi. “But work is great. The owner of the bakery seems to really trust me, so I get good hours and pay. If she ever needs help with management or something, maybe I’ll even get a promotion, as much as I could.”

“That’d be so great!” Usagi beamed, “You’re really rocking it, Ma—“

The crash overpowered every other sound in the café when the tray slipped out of a server’s hands and the glasses shattered on the ground. Makoto turned to look at the sound, just like everyone else in the now-hushed room, and was reassured to see a broom and some reassurances being rushed over to the frazzled server.

She looked back at Usagi to find her friend tense as a bridge cable. Her eyes were wide, one hand clutching the table and the other gripping the booth. One leg was even braced against her seat, primed to propel her forward in direct opposition to her shoulders and torso that seemed to be recoiling from the commotion.

“Usagi?” Makoto asked, and Usagi’s head whipped around. “You alright?”

The tension melted out of Usagi’s body and she nodded, turning back to her food,

“Yeah. I’m fine,” Usagi assured her. “Don’t worry!” she assured her with a bright smile. But, for a moment there, Makoto had seen a tired melancholy behind her eyes. It seemed she had found what Rei was talking about after all.

After lunch they walked around the city together, window shopping, and Makoto watched Usagi closely out of the corner of her eye.

“Do you still talk to Naru?” Mako asked, an advertisement for jewelry catching her eye and bringing back memories of school days past.

“Sometimes,” Usagi nodded, looking around at all the shops. “We text and I follow her online. Last I heard she’s doing good. I bet she’ll get married in the next year,” Usagi told her, turning to offer a knowing smile.

“Good for her,” Makoto smiled back, without any of the knowing. “I don’t get much from the few social media pages I see.”

“Fair enough,” Usagi replied. “Oh, watch out,” she added, putting a hand around Mako’s arm and gently pulling her away from a tree she’d come close to walking into. “Someone as tall as you, your hair would get caught in the branches!” Usagi joked.

How the tables had turned. All of a sudden Usagi was the one paying attention and helping Makoto avoid walking into danger. They’d all grown so much since they met. Usagi hadn’t lost her positive attitude and friendliness, but she’d also grown into a bit more poise, a bit more responsibility, and, Makoto realized as the distant screech of tires made Usagi flinch, a bit more nervous energy.

“Do you feel free, living on your own?” Mako asked, hoping to fill the space and ease her nerves with small talk.

“It’s nice,” Usagi admitted, “especially having time away from Shingo, and of course getting to wake up next to Mamo every day!” it seemed Usagi’s lovestruck smile hadn’t faded with time, and that happiness radiated off of her, warming Mako’s heart. “But it’s also hard sometimes to keep up with all the adult stuff,” Usagi admitted with an equally familiar pout, “There’s always dishes, and groceries, and mail… But I guess you’re good at all that by now!” she added.

“Sort of,” Makoto mused, looking up at the clouds, “it gets easier, I think, the longer you keep trying to balance it all, but it never goes away,” she agreed with an awkward chuckle. “Though maybe you can figure something out, once you’re in charg—“ Mako faltered as she saw Usagi’s face fall out of the corner of her eye. They weren’t looking at each other, exactly, but she saw the melancholy return behind those blue eyes and cut herself short. “And you’ve got Mamo to help you,” she tried to shift gears, “Between the two of you I’m sure you can do anything. Not that it doesn’t get tiring,” she added with a smile, “Sometimes I just buy a bunch of paper plates and disposable cutlery just to take a few days off.”

“Oooh, maybe we should do that sometime,” Usagi mused, light gradually returning to her. “Date night on paper plates so we don’t have to worry about dishes!”

“It would certainly leave more time for you two to have some fun-“ Usagi met Mako’s sly grin with a playful shove.

“Nooo! You sound like Mina!” The giggles behind Usagi’s words were infectious, and for a moment the two got caught up in the playful laughter.

The bang of a door hitting a wall and the sound of shouting cut them off, and as Mako opened her eyes to see what was going on, she just barely caught Usagi’s jump out of the corner of her eye. With a glance Mako saw that it was two people arguing as they left a shop. They weren’t making any moves to truly fight or to get away from each other, so she shrugged it off quickly and easily. As she turned back to Usagi she found her laser-focused on the two, eyes darting from the door to their retreating backs.

Makoto reached out and touched Usagi’s shoulder. She flinched, first, under the touch, but as Mako rubbed her hand across Usagi’s back in a friendly gesture the tension melted away and they fell back into step.

Mako couldn’t deny that Ami and Rei had been right: something was up with Usagi. And Makoto was never one to be especially shy about helping her friends.

“You seem a little tense,” she noted, and saw Usagi’s eyes flick over to look at her. “Everything OK?”

“Yeah!” Usagi assured her with a laugh and a smile, though not the most convincing one Makoto had ever seen. “Just loud noises, you know? Everybody gets startled sometimes.”

“That’s true,” Mako allowed, “it made me jump, too.” A moment later, Mako added, “You know everything is going to be OK, right?”

“What?” Usagi turned to look at her this time.

“I was just thinking about what you were saying, about living on your own—“

“I have Mamo,” Usagi interrupted.

“Right,” Mako said, “and you guys have been living together for a while now. It’s not exactly like when I was thrust out into the world, essentially on my own. You’re older, and have a better support system, but i still remember what it was like. It can be hard to balance everything, and when it’s all brand new—compared to your whole life lived with your family, going to school, all that—“ she elaborated before Usagi could argue, “it can be really scary. You barely know what next week will look like, let alone the rest of your life. But it’ll be OK,” Mako repeated, giving Usagi another pat on the back.

Usagi nodded, and her gaze fell back down to the pavement.

“And if it isn’t OK,” Mako added, “I’ll fight whatever’s bothering you!”

“You can’t fight a to-do list,” Usagi said with a half-smile.

“Oh yeah?” Mako replied, “I can fight anything!” she insisted, making a fist and rolling up one sleeve, “Bills? Kick ‘em! Meetings you don’t want to go to? Punch! Existential ennui? I’ll give it the ol’ one-two!” as Mako kicked and punched the air for emphasis, Usagi giggled.

“I don’t even know what ennui is!” she admitted.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mako said with a smile, “I’ll still take it on.”

When Makoto made it back to her apartment she turned to the group chat.

_Had a great time with Usagi this afternoon, but you guys are right. She seems bothered._

_Ha! I’m not crazy!_ was Rei’s quick response.

 _She seemed sad to you too?_ Ami asked.

 _Sometimes._ Makoto texted back. _Mostly she seemed jumpy. I’d say she’s not herself but she is. She just also seems off. IDK_

 _This sounds like a job for your fearless leader!_ Minako joined the conversation. _Minako is on the case._


	4. Minako

Minako noticed she was tired.

Maybe that’s what she gets for catching Usagi by surprise on her way home from work.

“What are you doing here?” was the first thing Usagi said to her, eyes wide.

“I wanted to surprise you!” Minako told her with her most charming smile.

“You did!” Usagi assured her with a laugh.

“Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?”

“I’m heading home,” Usagi replied, “why?”

“I thought maybe we could hit the arcade like we used to,” Minako said, “if you’ve got time?” Usagi smiled, but it wasn’t the bright smile Minako was used to. It was a soft, melancholy look, more suited to a Real Adult than childish Usagi. But maybe they were real adults now. In that moment, Minako could see the woman who ruled over Neo-Tokyo. The woman they’d found frozen in crystal.

“Sure, Mina,” Usagi confirmed.

“Awesome!” Minako chirped, throwing an arm around Usagi’s shoulders and leading her toward the arcade.

As they stepped into the arcade, Minako took it all in. She hadn’t stopped by as often as she’d like, and, all of a sudden, coming in after work with her friend that looked so much older somehow, the arcade seemed very loud, and full of children. As they walked through the cabinets, she offered Usagi a smile,

“I remember when all the kids in the arcade seemed cool and older. Now that’s us, I guess.”

“I guess,” Usagi agreed, mirroring her smile.

“Ooh! There’s a race game open! Come on,” Minako pulled Usagi over to the stylized seats of the game, and as they put in coins and started it up, Minako waxed nostalgic, “Remember meeting Haruka and Michiru at the arcade? They’re both so pretty.”

Usagi just nodded, eyes focused on the game.

“Well, I don’t think we’ll beat Haruka’s high scores but let’s see who— _oh shit, it’s starting!_ ” Minako zeroed in on the game, trying to get back into a groove she didn’t realize she’d lost. But even as she worked hard to take the corners at the right speed and angle, she glanced over at Usagi, trying to read her. Usagi was totally focused on the game. There was none of the screaming of flailing or pageantry that she used to have as she reacted to every little success or setback in the game. The only hint of the old Usagi in her face was the tip of her tongue, poking out of her mouth in concentration.

The game exploded in sound as they finished, Usagi just barely beating Minako. She looked more surprised to have won than anything.

“Nice!” Mina cheered, reaching out and giving Usagi a high five before looking back at the screen to see the high scores. Minako laughed as she realized just how poorly the two of them had done by comparison. “Looks like we’re a little rusty,” she noted, and Usagi gave her that tired smile again.

“I guess so,” she agreed with a chuckle.

“Wanna’ see what else they have?”

Usagi nodded and let Minako lead her around the arcade some more. They tried a rhythm game and a fighting game, and Minako tried to take reassurance from the smiles and laughs she got out of Usagi. Still, she seemed subdued, a word Mina would’ve never thought to use for her.

“Are you—“ Minako tried to think of how to phrase the question as they continued to peruse the cabinets, “how’re you feeling lately?”

“I’m fine!” Usagi assured her, and she could see the effort behind the bright smile. “Things are going well. I have Mamo, and a good job. I keep getting asked that,” she added with an awkward laugh, “Do- do I act like something’s wrong?”

Minako shrugged, fumbling for a response.

“You just… you seem tired today, that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah,” Usagi said, “I mean, I’ve been at work all day, and I’ve been working out—“

“What?!” a smile took over Mina’s face in spite of herself, “You?” she asked before she thought better of it.

“What’s so funny about that?” Usagi put on a show of pouting.

“Noting, sorry,” Mina laughed, “I just didn’t expect that! That’s cool. Is that going well?”

Usagi shrugged.

“Pretty good. I’m not lifting anything really heavy yet, but I do feel stronger,” she flexed for dramatic effect, though it didn’t show much under her long-sleeve shirt.

“That’s awesome,” Minako told her with a smile before turning back to perusing the cabinets. “I’m glad you’re— _Oh my god!_ ” she pulled Usagi towards a single cabinet sitting quietly near the back of the room, along with the other dated games. “They have a Sailor V game!” Minako beamed, “We _have_ to play it!” When she turned back to Usagi, she couldn’t read her friend’s face. Her eyes were trained on the machine, but she barely showed any expression. Was that… surprise, maybe?

Minako powered on regardless, putting in her coins and stepping back, gesturing to the machine,

“Do you wanna go first?”

Usagi frowned, looking the machine up and down. She put on half a smile and turned to Mina,

“No, you should go first.”

“If you insist,” Minako replied, unable to suppress her giddy grin.

She didn’t have as much muscle memory for the old platformer as she’d hoped, and as enemies kept hitting her she muttered to herself, “You’d think I’d be better at using my own powers.” She could hear the small chuckle from Usagi, looking closely over her shoulder, and continued hitting buttons, but her timing and reflexes weren’t what they used to be. She barely made it into the second stage before being booted out of the game.

“Aw, man!” she groaned, barely listening as the tinny digital voice urged her to try again. “Still fun, though,” she added, putting in more coins and stepping back for Usagi. “Go on, give it a try.”

Usagi hesitated a moment, looking at the cabinet like a strange animal that may or may not be friendly.

“It’ll be fun,” Minako promised, and Usagi flashed her a hesitant smile before sitting down at the controls.

Usagi took to the old game with the same focus and seriousness as all the others. But as she ran into obstructions or enemies, she started muttering, “Aw man,” and Minako was noticing she gasped quietly whenever she defeated an enemy successfully. When she beat the first level the little pixelated Sailor V appeared to encourage her:

“ _Good job! You can do this!_ ” the slightly-distorted voice chirped.

“Yeah Usagi,” Minako said, before affecting the same high-pitch and inflection, “Good job! You can do this!” She swelled with pride when Usagi giggled and grinned.

Usagi’s focus got her farther than Minako had managed, but the second level’s boss still did her in, and she hit the controls in frustration.

“Still did better than me,” Minako noted, as the little Sailor V returned.

“ _Bad luck! Try again! The world is still in danger! I believe in you, Princess!_ ”

Usagi stared at the screen, and Minako glanced between her face and the colorful images. Before she could think of anything to say, Usagi stood up.

“It’s getting late,” she said, looking towards the door. “I should head home.”

“OK,” Minako said, trying and failing to read the situation. Usagi started walking, and Minako jogged to catch up. “Thanks for doing this with me,” she said, still watching Usagi’s expressions, “this was fun.”

“Yeah,” Usagi allowed, glancing over at her with the tired smile. When they stepped out onto the sidewalk Usagi wrapped her up in a hug, “It was really nice to hang out with you. See you soon!” she added, waving over her shoulder as she jogged away. Mina waved back, but as soon as Usagi turned away she pulled out her phone to consult the group chat.

 _Something is definitely up._ she texted them, _We need reinforcements_.

Minako lead the way up the front walk to the door, Ami, Rei, and Makoto all following on her heels.

“This seems a bit strange,” Ami noted, just before Mina knocked on the door.

“You did tell them we were coming?” Rei asked in the silence that followed, her voice thick with skepticism.

“Of course!” Minako assured her as the door was pulled open.

“I’m impressed that you all made it,” Setsuna told them, looking them over with a smile. “Come on in.” She gestured them inside the cozy house she shared with Michiru and Haruka, and leaned against the wall to face them all as they settled in the living room. “Tell me more about what’s wrong.”

Minako, Ami, Rei, and Makoto looked between each other, trying to gauge who would speak up first.

“Well,” Minako decided to take the lead just as they began to hear approaching footsteps, “you see—“

“Wrong? What’s wrong?” Haruka asked, rounding a corner and artfully recovering from almost slipping on the hardwood floors, “Is someone in trouble?” her eyes darted around the room before locking on Minako, “Where’s Usagi?”

“I’m sure she’s fine, Haruka,” Michiru assured her, placing a hand on her partner’s shoulder, “but I am also curious as to what has you all concerned.”

“Usagi’s fine,” Minako quickly confirmed, before Makoto spoke up,

“In a manner of speaking. We could be seeing signs of serious issues—“

“What do I need to do?” Haruka asked, “I someone—“

“Haruka.” Michiru looked her in the eye and Haruka quieted down.

“Sorry. Go on.”

“It seems like Usagi is in a funk,” Minako explained. “she seems tired—“

“And jumpy,” Makoto chimed in.

“And quiet,” Rei said.

“She just seems… sad,” Ami concluded. “not herself.”

The outer senshi’s faces fell.

“That does sound strange for Usagi,” Michiru agreed.

“Then, do we try and cheer her up?” Haruka offered, “do things that make her happy? Or…?”

“We’ve tried that,” Minako said, “she even seemed out of it at the arcade.”

Haruka gaped at this revelation.

“Have you talked to her about it?” Setsuna asked.

“She insists she’s fine if we ask,” Makoto said, “or mentions mundane reasons.”

“You think there’s a threat?” Haruka asked, perking up at the potential of something tangible to fight, “A new enemy?”

“We would know if something had entered the solar system,” Setsuna reminded her. “Please, calm down. Perhaps this is happening for mundane reasons,” Setsuna proposed. “Or it will take more time and effort for her to open up. It can be hard to share personal burdens, or even fully understand the stresses and worries you’re struggling with.”

“But if she can’t open up to us, who can she open up to?” Rei retorted.

“Have you reached out to Mamoru?” Michiru asked, gaining everyone’s attention. “He likely spends the most time with Usagi. Maybe he could help.”

“If she won’t open up to them, why would he be different?” Haruka said.

“Sometimes a partner is different,” Michiru reminded her with pointed eye contact, “and even if she hasn’t or won’t confide in him, the time they spend together could give him valuable insight into the situation.”

“Alright!” Minako stood from the sofa, filled with a new determination, “We’ll call Mamoru! If anything can solve this problem, maybe it’s destined true love!


	5. Mamoru

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This penultimate chapter is a bit short, but that's 'cause the next one is a doozy. Glad to hear people are enjoying the fic, and I hope it continues to live up to your expectations!

Mamoru noticed she was upset.

Some mornings he’d consider calling in sick, seeing the exhaustion and sadness painted across Usagi’s face. But he knew better than that. Even through the melancholy look he could still see that spark, that determination. One of the many things he loved so dearly about her. He had trouble believing she’d let him skip work on her account.

Instead, he did what he always had: keep a close eye on Usagi, helping her as best he could while she powered on, committed to her own path. Though he found it harder to see what her path was these days. She would go to work, she would watch television, she would check the news. As she went through the motions, he watched for opportunities to support her, to help her in moments of crisis, anything. Being a professor meant his schedule was a little strange, so he made dinner and cleaned house when he could manage, trying to take some weight off of Usagi. Or he would remind her to look at something other than the news, which she’d started checking more and more. The best he could think to do was try and distract her, when her eyes glazed over with that melancholy look. Put on a good movie, talk about his day, or ask her about hers.

Some days she would be perfectly herself: goofy, chipper, and enthusiastic. But he couldn’t ignore her low moods. Sometimes he wondered if she was just growing up, maturing, but that wouldn’t look quite like this. He would expect a ‘grown up’ Usagi to be more recognizable as her same old self, just a little more responsible, a little calmer. Being responsible was not the same as being tired, sad, distracted. Though she barely ever cried anymore. For all the sadness that followed her around on the bad days, Usagi the crybaby hadn’t shed a tear in weeks, maybe even months.

On good days they easily focused on the good together, forgetting, for a moment, the stresses of adulthood, but he could see the dark clouds that hung over Usagi far too often.

She would wake up in the night, sometimes, and stay up for hours without being able to sleep. He’d wrestled with insomnia plenty in his life, and racked his brain for every tip and trick he’d ever tried. She didn’t need to spend her nights on autopilot, aimlessly filling time when she’d rather be sleeping, or wrestling the kinds of demons he’d encountered. Her ability to sleep had been getting steadily worse over the last year or so, but maybe taking up a more rigorous exercise routine would help. It hadn’t yet, but he held out hope. If nothing else, he could stay up with her sometimes. Make her a hot drink and try and keep the demons that hide in late-night shadows at bay.

When they talked together, telling each other about work, life, how the day had been, he tried to pinpoint what might be haunting her. It would be so easy if there was a specific problem. A person he could confront, a task or project at work that brought her down, even one specific worry that nagged at Usagi’s mind. If there was something so simple, he hadn’t been able to get it out of her. He often weighed the pros and cons of asking her outright what was bothering her; listing everything he’d noticed, letting her know he was worried. But would that just make it worse? The last thing he wanted was to spook her into more worry or distress. He still hadn’t decided which option was better.

He often thought that it would all be so much easier if there was something hiding in the shadows, poised to attack. An inhuman enemy, posing a tangible threat. An evil sorceress with a magical hold on Usagi’s heart, siphoning off her joy, her enthusiasm, her hope, to power some nefarious plan. Then, at least, it would be easier to face head-on. He could fight for Usagi— No, that’s not how it would go. He would be able to stand behind Usagi, helping her forward as she faced the terror ahead. It used to be that all the big problems could be solved with a little magic and the power of love, but he didn’t have any magic on hand. At least a kiss could still summon a smile, and he was still there, to help her however he could.

Still, reminder her of that was the closest he ever came to trying to uncover what, exactly, was bothering her.

“I’m here to help,” he’d tell her, drying the dishes when he found her elbow-deep in the sudsy kitchen sink, “whatever you need.”

She would give him a small smile, tinted with exhaustion, as he put a blanket over her on the couch, or helped her put her hair up, or gave her a kiss as she got out of bed.

“Thank you,” she’d reply, and that’s all they would say about it. They would go about their days, and the dance of supporting one another without facing the stress or the burnout head-on. After all, they could take care of each other and themselves without talking about it explicitly. It was plenty helpful to curl up together on the sofa, or share a tasty dinner and fun conversation (recent topics included nuances of the Japanese government’s inner workings, are hot dogs sandwiches, and what are the weirdest rocks and why).

As much as Usagi’s struggles had him worried, he had never expected to be added to a women’s group chat apropos of nothing.

 _Welcome to operation Help Usagi!_ ✌️ Minako texted, and for a moment Mamoru just stared at it.

 _I’m happy to help, but did you mean to include me?_ he typed back, and Minako was quick to respond:

_Absolutely! We need your help! Usagi’s in a funk, and we’ve gotta break her out of it!_

_Have you noticed if she’s feeling bad?_ Ami added to the conversation.

 _Have you talked to her?_ Rei quickly followed up.

He smiled at his phone. Maybe he wasn’t having much luck because he’d forgotten the most important lesson Usagi ever taught him: you can’t do everything alone.

He typed out a reply: _Yes, she seems to be having trouble. I’m trying to help, but I haven’t talked to her directly yet. Looks like she’s in good hands, though, with friends like you._


	6. Usagi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, strap in! This is the big, long wrap-up! Hope it doesn't disappoint!

Usagi knew something was wrong.

But not wrong enough. Every morning she checked the news, checked her messages, and the nauseating concoction of anticipation, excitement, and dread in her gut made it hard to eat breakfast. The knowledge loomed over her like a storm cloud— no, like a rock perched on a ledge; stable enough to look away from, but not stable enough that you were sure the avalanche wasn’t about to begin. The catastrophe was coming. It had to be.

Some days she was glad to be living a normal life. Sort of. It was simple, pleasant. For all its stresses (and there was plenty of stress) at least it wasn’t dramatic and deadly like the things she’d faced as a teenager. But the tension of waiting was killing her.

Most days, she half wished that something big would happen, changing the world forever and reawakening her powers. But would she be ready? She wasn’t a leader. Not a _world_ leader. She was barely even a passable adult. Every time she caught sight of the stack of dishes in the sink, or the papers and mail that got forgotten on the coffee table, it nagged at her, making her stomach turn. She didn’t just think, “Oh, I need to deal with that.” No, it was often tinged with the internal reprimand: “If I can’t even handle this small responsibility, how can I handle a country? A kingdom? A world?”

For all the nausea she felt, it could at least be morning sickness. But it wasn’t that, either. She’d been waiting for that too, checking and re-checking, even when it made no sense. To say they were “trying” for a kid wouldn’t be right, exactly, but the certainly weren’t avoiding pregnancy. The next Usagi would have to be born eventually.

On a good day, she could focus on the moment. Focus on what was in front of her. Her work was definitely fulfilling, helping women on the large and small scale. She was learning a lot, about organizations, dealing with people (both in passing and as co-workers), responsibility. When she didn’t feel like she was falling behind or screwing things up by being late, or missing something, or dropping something. That wasn’t too often, but even the slightest mistake pulled her anxieties to the surface, and she hated to think she might’ve made someone’s day worse, or harder, or been a disappointment. But on the other hand (she’d been trying to think positive, she heard that was a good idea), she was making new friends and keeping in touch with her old ones, drinking coffee (with so much cream and sugar) and getting help with tasks she didn’t fully understand. People were good, and in many ways, many situations, she was happy, really!

But she also jumped whenever her phone buzzed unexpectedly, and it wasn’t hard, when she was up in the middle of the night, staring out the window or up at the ceiling, to feel utterly exhausted and drained. To feel lost, or stuck, or hopeless. Regardless or whether she was hoping for anything in particular, there was a weight and a tiredness sunk into her soul. She tried to think about the good things. She tried to breathe deeply and calm her nerves. She tried not to think about the fears, the worries, the self deprecation, that haunted her thoughts. She had her friends, and she had Mamo.

And she had to face this alone.

It wasn’t as though anyone else was destined to rule a country at an indeterminate time. Even if the others would be there to help her, she couldn’t really rely on anyone but herself to face whatever crisis was coming, if Galaxia had been any indication. And her worries about not getting pregnant, or getting pregnant for that matter, were difficult for her to even pin down, let alone put into words. As unnerving as it was to be be searching for her destiny and finding nothing, it’s not as though she felt ready to raise a child. She only barely felt ready to go back to work and do her job Monday morning.

She stared into her own face in the mirror. Had her eyes gotten darker? Were those bags under her eyes, or just the lighting? She’d slept with her hair down, and parts of it were a tangled mess. Her hands pressed down onto the bathroom counter, holding her up. She was so tired. She just wanted to stop, close her eyes, not think about all these things. Or something like that. She didn’t even know what she wanted. She wanted to get all this terrifying, unavoidable, future stuff done with. She wanted to get pregnant, for some crisis to appear that only she could stop.

She gripped the counter, just to give her hands something to do, and felt her jaw tense. Just blow up the world already! She thought desperately. Then at least she could put down the phone, turn off the TV, rest a little easier!

But could she? The thought of having to fight again, after years of comparative normalcy, made her chest feel tight, her stomach lurch. She didn’t want to face all of that again. Just like she didn’t want to throw up every morning, or carry a whole baby, not to mention go into labor, or raise a child! The anticipation was awful, but would the payoff be worse? She was so scared, and tired, and unprepared.

The possibilities raced through her mind. She _would_ have to face her destiny. Again, and again, and again. A crisis would come, and she’d have to fight it. She might lose her friends all over again, have to figure out how to revive them all on her own. So many people could get hurt. If it was something so powerful, so strange, that she would be handed all that power on a platter, it could be horrific. But even if it wouldn’t be, the idea of having to give up what little routine, and comfort, and stability she had right now, the normalcy of the world she’d always known, made her feel as sick as the constant suspense. Whether she had to give it up for the responsibility of leading a whole country (maybe even a whole world?), or just the responsibility of putting a baby’s needs before her own, she didn’t really want to. But she didn’t want to keep living like this, either!

She looked into the mirror. The face staring back was not a leader, not a regal queen. The face in the mirror was a tired, worn, young woman, who didn’t know what to do.

Her vision blurred from hot tears and her face scrunched up with despair in spite of her best efforts. As she swiped at the tears and tried to swallow down a sob, she realized she hadn’t cried in months. All the pain had stayed locked up as the weight in her chest. She hadn’t even been trying to keep it in, she’d just been too tired to cry. She knew, in the back of her mind, that it could be good to let it all out, feel her feelings for a moment. But she couldn’t she had to face the day with a good face, as best she could, even if it was only a Saturday—

“Usako?”

She turned to look at Mamoru, standing in the doorway, and her attempts to keep breathing and not sob faltered. More tears fell, and a whimper of a sob made it out, even as she tried to sniff and swipe away the tears. Before she could manage a word—an explanation, an apology—he’d wrapped his arms around her. She clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder and pulling herself as close to him as she could. There was no better place to hide away than in warmth of the hug and the soft fabric of his worn-out pajamas.

They stood like that a few minutes, Mamo stroking her hair occasionally as Usagi tried her best to keep breathing through the tears. As the hiccups and sobs became farther apart, he made a suggestion.

“Let’s go back to bed.”

She nodded into his chest, before pulling away just enough to follow him back into the bedroom, dabbing at her tears with her sleeve.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offered, sitting across from her on the mattress to better be able to see her face.

“I don’t know,” was all she could manage. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself a bit, but another sob was quick on its tail.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

She shook her head, “It’s OK. It’s just— it’s _everything_ ,” she groaned, before the tears cut off her voice again.

“Everything?” he echoed, voice wavering between soft and incredulous.

“Well, not you,” she admitted quickly with another sigh, and he cracked a small smile.

“I wasn’t fishing for that,” he assured her, “but that’s good to hear.”

“I’m just so scared,” she said, some of her composure coming back to her. The tears still flowed freely, but the sobs and the tightness in her throat seemed to be going away. But it didn’t help anything that Mamo’s face fell like a sheet of rain.

“Of what?” he pressed.

“I don’t know!” it came out more exasperated than she’d planned, and she followed it quickly with, “Sorry. I’m just so tired, and overwhelmed, and I’m just… lost.”

“What can I do to help?” Mamo was so earnest, and gentle, and caring, and her heart warmed and broke all at once, because the only response she could think of was,

“I don’t know.”

“Is it just… things in general?” he tried to understand, “Or is it work, or chores, or—?”

“It’s… a lot,” was her first response, still sniffling and fighting a loosing battle to keep her face dry. “I’m just tired, but like, in my soul. Maybe I need more sleep, but it’s more than that. I don’t just want a nap, I want to stop doing all the things. I want to relax, but I can’t.” She could tell the gears were turning in Mamo’s head, trying help, trying to fix this. She went on before he could come up with anything. “I can’t stop thinking about how everything is bad! Not really,” she hastily back-tracked. “Sometimes everything is good, and there are lots of good things, I try and remember that, but I can get really stuck. I just start thinking about one thing that bums me out and before I know it I’m sinking down into a dark hole, thinking about how I’d be a terrible leader— queen— whatever! And how I’m a failure, and I don’t know what I’m doing, and everyone I love could be in danger at a moment’s notice—“ her voice was getting higher and choppier as the sobs threatened to overtake her again.

Mamo put a steadying hand on her arm.

“Usako,” the term of endearment got her to look at him, to remember to breathe. “It’s OK. That’s a lot,” he added, “of course that’s hard to handle on your own. But you don’t have to. I’m here to help, whatever you need.”

“I know.” Usagi deflated, looking down at her hands in her lap. “But these are my problems. I’m the only one who can deal with any of them! It’s not like you can be the one to have… our kid,” she laughed a short, watery laugh at the thought.

“I guess not,” Mamoru admitted. His eyes widened. “Is that what this is about? Are you—“

“No!” she quickly cut him off, “No. And I guess that’s part of what this is about. I keep thinking I should be pregnant, but I’m not, and that’s scary, but it’s also scary to think about being pregnant, and having to raise a kid, maybe while having to run a country, and—“

“Usako,” he repeated, “you don’t have to do all that alone.”

“But—“

“I may not be able to do these things for you, or maybe even change them at all. I don’t like that I can’t really take these weights off your shoulders, but I suppose you’re right that only you will get pregnant, only you will become…” he hesitated, “…will handle the crisis we think is coming. Only you can wrestle your own thoughts and forge your own path. But you don’t have to do those things alone. You can always talk to me, and lean on me, and I know I’m not the only one. Even if there are a lot of things you have to do yourself, other people can still help you. I may not be able to carry a baby, but I can pick up things that you shouldn’t, I can help make you comfortable, and I can help raise a child. And I will! I’ll always be with you, Usako,” he reminded her, taking Usagi’s hands, “For all the things I can’t do, I can always support you. Even if I can’t carry you out of your deep dark hole, I can hold your hand and try and light the way.”

Usagi smiled, sniffling and wiping away some tears.

“I love you,” she told her husband, so much as she was able after so many tears.

“I love you too,” Mamo assured her, placing a kiss on her forehead just as she felt her stomach groan.

“Enough to make me breakfast?” she asked, smiling through her lingering sniffles.

“Absolutely,” he said, giving her another kiss before getting out of bed. “Are you up for keeping me company in the kitchen?”

“Absolutely!” she echoed, hopping up with more pep than she’d had in a few days.

While making a very tasty breakfast, Mamoru and Usagi traded some of the more ridiculous stories from their weeks. Mamo, for instance, had seen a student wearing three pairs of sunglasses, and had a colleague ask him how to copy and paste text. Usagi countered with a story about another woman at work who signed every text message as a matter of principle.

After the lull in conversation that comes from eating good food, Mamoru said,

“Would you be up for going to the park?”

Usagi looked up, mid-chew, cheeks stuffed with food. She took a moment to finish the bite she’d started before replying.

“Sure,” she said, “it’s nice to get outside.”

Mamoru nodded agreement,

“Maybe we’ll see someone there.”

“Oh jeez, then I should brush my hair at least. Putting it up sounds like a lot of work, though,” she admitted.

“I could try to put it up?” Mamo offered hesitantly, and Usagi just smiled at him.

“I’ve seen you try to tie knots. I don’t want you doing anything to my hair other than brushing it. Just like you don’t want me near the stove.”

“Fair enough,” Mamo said with a chuckle.

“Usagi!” All four of the original guardians leapt up as soon as they caught sight of Usagi and Mamoru, but Mina was the first to reach them.

“Everyone!” Usagi beamed, running over to meet Minako halfway in an enthusiastic hug.

“Your hair!” Minako was quick to point out, holding her by the shoulders, “Why is it down?”

Usagi hesitated, but Mamoru gave her a reassuring rub on her back.

“I didn’t really have the energy this morning,” she admitted with an awkward smile.

“Do you want to have it up?” Minako asked. After a moment, Usagi said,

“It would be nice not to sit on it by accident.”

Minako’s expression set into one of total seriousness, and she turned back to the others.

“Anyone have a hairbrush? And maybe a hair tie? I think I have one,” she muttered, patting her pockets. Rei produced a hairbrush, and Mako pulled a variety of hair ties out of her bag.

“Will one of these do?” she asked, offering a bunch of colors and styles. “And boy, have I been there,” she added, as Usagi picked out two hair ties, each a different shade of pink.

“What?” Usagi asked, looking up at Mako.

“Not having the energy. Sometimes it can be hard to even get out of bed, let alone cook meals, do dishes…“

“Keep up with emails, focus at work,” Ami added to the list.

“Remember to take out the trash,” Mina threw in, “not to mention other errands.”

“Getting to the grocery store!” Rei said, “I hate grocery shopping. It’s so tedious and leaves me far too much time alone with my thoughts. I’ve felt some serious existential dread trying to pick out the right fruit.”

“…You guys struggle with that stuff?” Usagi asked, looking between them.

“I know, it’s embarrassing,” Rei sighed, but Ami was quick to cut in,

“No it isn’t! These things happen. Lots of people feel depressed like this.”

“Existing is hard,” Minako groaned, simplifying the concept. “Do you mind?” she added, gesturing with Rei’s hairbrush to confirm that Usagi was cool with her doing her hair. Usagi nodded and handed over the hair ties.

“Have you been down, lately?” Mako prompted, as they all settled on park benches around the fountain.

“Yeah,” Usagi admitted. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Rei nodded sagely, and Ami was listening with rapt attention. “But I didn’t want to bring anybody else down, and they’re my problems. It’s my destiny, or whatever.”

“To be depressed?!” Mina interjected from behind her as she methodically brushed out her hair.

“No! To stop the crisis and become a queen and stuff. If I can’t even keep the dishes clean, how can I be a world leader? The responsibility makes me nervous, not to mention triple-checking the news all the time to make sure no weird circus tents, or rocks, or UFOs or something have appeared. A lot of the time I just feel tired, and sort of… lost. Plus sometimes I worry about work and— what do you guys worry about?” she asked, looking between her friends. “I think I was convinced this was all my problem ‘cause I’m so worried about all this future, destiny, big-important-Moon-Princess stuff, but if you feel it too, what’s keeping you up at night?”

A silence fell.

“I guess it is hard to talk about,” Mako admitted with a chuckle.

“But important!” Ami retorted. “Talking with other people is a good way to put your feelings out there, maybe even ask for help. If you’ve got a willing ear, you should share.” She realized everyone was staring at her expectantly, and shrunk back a bit, blushing. “I guess I just volunteered myself, didn’t I?”

The others nodded.

Ami took a breath to compose herself, and began, “Well, I suppose I feel lonely a lot. Sometimes my apartment, my life… they feel really empty. I’ve thought about trying to date someone just to have another person around more often, but I don’t think that’s the answer. I don’t really want that, and besides, I’m so busy! I’m always doing something, or preparing to go somewhere. I almost never stop thinking about work. But at the same time, I feel bored. It’s like I’m going through the motions, but at the same time I’m _always going_. I don’t feel like I have the time or energy to do things for myself, or do anything more fulfilling.”

“I sort of get that,” Mako spoke up. “When I get real low it’s because I feel, like, stuck. I’ve been working so hard to take care of myself for so many years, but it doesn’t always feel like much has changed, and I just think, is this it? Is this all? I just wake up, go to work, go shopping, do dishes, whatever? The same stuff over and over again, forever? Rationally I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but that’s not a lot of help sometimes. And I wonder, was being Sailor Jupiter the most interesting thing I’ll ever do? Were those years the best I’ll ever have? Which is silly, too, and I guess I’ll be Sailor Jupiter again, but that doesn’t pay the bills now, so I don’t really think about it. And the loneliness,” she added, gesturing to Ami for emphasis, “I don’t feel it as much, I think, but I do want to fall in love, but it seems like I can’t. No one wants me. So that can show up in the dark monologue, too: am I unlovable?” Ami reached over to offer Mako a supportive hand to hold.

After a pause, Rei was the next to speak, “I worry I’ll become like my parents.” She looked down at her hands, stoic as always, though everyone else looked at her. “Either cold and distant to those around me, or dead. I’m not sure which scares me more: that there might have been a genetic component to my mother’s illness and it could take over my life without warning, or that I’ll become as isolated and dismissive as my father has always been. Every time one of the girls working at the shrine shrinks back, or I have to tell one of them—or, worse, my grandfather—that I’m too busy to talk to them or help them, i think of him, and how uncomfortable it was to grow up without parents, even though one of them was still alive, and, really, not that far away. Not to mention I’m always thinking and worrying about the running of the shrine, making sure everything is in place, or at least stable enough to hold until the most pressing problems are solved. And I worry about my grandfather, and the combination of his failing house and the worn out parts of the building—“ she took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose, re-centering herself. “And I understand feeling lost, in my own way,” she said, turning to Usagi with a soft smile, “Ever since I lost Phobos and Deimos I feel like my fortune telling is slipping. I’m afraid I’ll be blindsided by the crisis, whenever it comes, or anything else that could happen in my life. It’s really uncomfortable to loose that small feeling of control in my life.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be strong enough,” Mina finally weighed in. “I’m scared that when the crisis comes, I’ll be out of practice, out of shape. It’s not as though I’m training in sword fighting after work,” she tried to laugh the worry off, but it didn’t quite work.

“Maybe you should,” Ami spoke up, “if you think it might help put you at ease.”

“I don’t know,” Mina admitted with another laugh. “It’s hard to practice fighting with powers you haven’t had in years. But I’m supposed to be the leader, the strongest warrior, and if I’m not, if I fail at my _one job_ …” Mina trailed off, looking down at Usagi’s hair, now thoroughly brushed and separated into sections. “But it isn’t my one job,” she reminded herself as much as anyone else, “I still have to go to work every morning, like you guys said. But it’s not exactly glamorous. I sometimes get really down, wondering if I’ll ever be really successful. I always wanted to be famous, and maybe that’s ridiculous, but can I even hope for some kind of notoriety? Or will I just keep doing odd jobs, hopping between low-level positions and trying not to go broke? And maybe we need to hang out more,” she noted, trying again to get a smile to stick, “it sounds like we’re all pretty lonely. And, god, if the spirit of Venus, god of love, can’t find a date, can’t find love, what good even am I? Sure, I’m living, I’m surviving, but I should be doing better! I really feel like a failure some days, and…” she trailed off, debating whether or not she should share this last thought as she worked to tie up Usagi’s hair. “…I miss Artemis,” she admitted after a moment.

“I know!” Usagi agreed, turning to face Mina and hindering the progress on her hair. (Mina just barely managed to disentangle her hand from the hair ties before her hand got yanked by Usagi’s head or vice-versa.) “I never thought I’d miss bossy ol’ Luna, but I do! I don’t want to hear from her, ‘cause it would probably mean something bad on the way, but at the same time—“

“Yeah,” Mina cut her off, putting a reassuring hand to Usagi’s cheek as tears started to form. “It’s weird not having them around. They were such a constant presence for so long. But, you know, I try to remember that they’re still out there. We’ll see them again,” she reminded Usagi with a melancholy smile.

“When the world is ending,” Usagi retorted, mirroring her smile.

“Oof, yeah, maybe we shouldn’t think about that,” Minako relented.

“You’re not alone,” Mamoru reminded Usagi, pulling attention to himself. “Even if you all have different problems, that doesn’t mean you can’t be supportive. You’re really loved, Usagi,” he said, rubbing her shoulder affectionately. Her smile lost its melancholy, and she beamed at him, before Mina said,

“What about you, Mr. Responsible?” she prompted Mamoru, “What keeps you up at night?”

Mamoru faltered.

“Yes,” Rei backed her up, “go on, Mamoru. It’s the supportive thing to do.”

“Dish!” Minako egged him on.

Mamoru laughed awkwardly under all the attention, but dutifully stepped up. “I’ve always worried about safety, and being prepared—“

“Oh! I forgot about that!” Ami piped up, once again turning everyone to look at her and shrinking back before elaborating, “After so many years facing crises, I definitely worry sometimes about not being prepared, or get stuck thinking through awful ‘what if’ scenarios.”

“Exactly,” Mamoru confirmed, “and I feel responsible. If something were to go wrong, from the smallest thing to the most serious, I feel like it would be my fault if I could prevent it, or fix it. I’m sure being on my own for so long didn’t help with that,” he noted with half a smile, “And really most of my worries are about letting people down, not being good enough. They always have been. I definitely worry about failing you,” he admitted to Usagi, “by not being there when you need me, or able to help you when you need it. I worry about the crisis, too. I was never very strong, not like you all. A magical smoke bomb doesn’t really stack up against fire and lightning,” he said, nodding to Mako and Rei, “but I have to help, and be ready to protect you, and I can get really scared that I won’t be. I also worry about not being a good enough father. It’s not as though I really have any memories of a father to model myself on, so I worry about all that, too,” he said, taking Usagi’s hand. “But I also worry about really mundane stuff, like, will I be good enough for my students? Or am I just boring and hard to understand? I want to help them learn, and be really supportive, but there’s a lot of them, and they’re hard to read, and what if I upset one of my colleagues, or get in trouble—“ he cut himself off with a chuckle, “You know, that sort of thing.”

“So, what do we do?” Usagi asked, eyes darting between all of her dear friends around her while she tried her best to keep her head still. No need to further inconvenience Mina. “Is this just… it?”

“I like deep breathing,” Ami was the first to speak up. “And journaling. I can usually fit that in during trips and commutes, and make that time feel a little more personal in my busy schedule.”

“Remembering the good things helps me,” Mako said. “I like to stand on the balcony or look out the window, and try to think of as many good things in my life as I can when I get down. Sometimes it works, others it doesn’t,” she admitted with a sheepish grin, “but I try. I’ve been meaning to go back to therapy, but it usually slips my mind when I could really do anything about that.” A lot of people nodded understanding.

“I still really like video games,” Mina admitted, “sometimes I play phone games to try and relax.”

“Meditation.” was Rei’s simple answer.

“And now we can talk to each other, sometimes!” Mina added. “Making connections with friends more often can’t hurt!”

“It’s definitely good for you,” Ami concurred.

“Speaking of friends,” Usagi piped up, “I was talking to Naru a few days ago, and the wildest thing happened to her at work—“

Usagi regaled a rapt audience with her dramatic retelling of Naru’s latest customer service misadventures, gathered together in the park on a beautiful day. Minako carefully constructed her second bun as she talked, but the conversation carried on long after Usagi’s hair was up and more out of her way. For a moment, for a day, the world was beautiful, and it would still be, even on dark days.

They all had problems, and ghosts that haunted them, and fears big and small. They also had each other, and friends, and the presence of mind to know that, sometimes, they needed a shoulder to lean on. They knew, whether they tried to ignore it or prepare for it, that a crisis was coming someday. But that day wasn’t today.

For the big crisis of the future, and the small crises every day, none of them would be alone. They were never really alone, however lonesome it got. They had each other, for better or worse, so long as there was a moon, and planets, and stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated, and I hope you have a great day!
> 
> Also, if you're feeling down, don't hesitate to reach out to others for help. Even if those around you can't solve all your problems, or even take on all that you're feeling, they can probably help you delegate, prioritize, and/or find resources to help you manage things, both mentally and day-to-day. Reach out to someone you trust, and/or that you know has had remotely similar struggles. You don't need to sit in that metaphorical dark hole alone.


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